


Issues

by richiegoranski



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, it isnt actually mentioned but jst know in ur hearts tht they are, jeremy and rich r both trans, jeremy has a stutter and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:56:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richiegoranski/pseuds/richiegoranski
Summary: I got issuesYou got them tooSo give them all to meAnd I'll give mine to you





	Issues

jeremy was drowning. the water was rising higher and higher, filling his lungs, and the only way he could breathe again was

one across each thigh, two on his wrist (his cardigan would cover it up, no one would notice), a few on his stomach

each cut cleared his head more. it hurt like hell, but it was the one thing he had control over in his life. 

jeremy missed having control. the squip took all of that away from him, and he just _let it._ he didn’t fight back at all. he thought with the squip gone he’d finally have some control again, but he didn’t. everything happened and he couldn’t stop it and christine broke up with him and all of his friends ignored him and everything was awful and there was nothing he could do about it. 

his hands shaking and covered in his own blood, he lifted up the blade again, holding it above his wrist. 

he didn’t move his hand. 

this was gonna hurt. it was gonna be slow and painful. 

maybe that was what he deserved. 

he dropped the blade. pills would be easier. he got up and went for the cabinet when his phone rang. shit. the blaring ringtone _(why is it so loud?)_ reminded him that maybe he should’ve texted michael, or at least written a note, or _something._ he looked to see who was calling, barely noticing that blood was dripping on the floor and on his phone. it was rich. 

that was weird. he and rich barely ever talked. why would he call jeremy?

“h-hey rich.” the squip would have punished him for stuttering. he hated himself so much. 

“fuck, jeremy, i don’t know what to do.” he sounded like he was crying. 

“rich, a-are you okay?” _stop fucking stuttering, idiot._

“no... i don’t know. i feel so empty without the squip and you’re the only one who really gets it, i think.” there were a few seconds of silence on both ends, save for rich sniffling and choking back sobs. the squip would have made some comment about how pitiful rich sounded, but jeremy didn’t pity rich. he knew exactly how rich was feeling. “can you just come over or something, please? i can’t be alone right now.”

jeremy nodded, before remembering they were on the phone and rich couldn’t see him. “yeah. yeah, of course. i’ll be there as soon as i can.”

“thanks, jere.” he could practically hear rich cringe as his lisp slipped, something else jeremy knew all too well. he remembered the time in the school bathroom when his lisp slipped out and rich slapped himself. 

_maybe i should hurt myself every time i stutter. maybe then i can stop sounding like such an idiot all the time._

he quickly cleaned himself up, wrapping the cuts with bandages and wiping the blood off of the floor before it could dry. 

he didn’t have a car, so he ran over to rich’s house, forgetting to grab a cardigan in his haste. 

———

the only word rich could use to describe jeremy was _pitiful._ his arms were covered in blood-soaked bandages and he looked like he’d been crying for hours. 

“shit, are you okay?” rich asked. 

“don’t worry about me. are _you_ okay?”

rich was curled up in a ball on the floor in front of his bed, and it occurred to him that he probably looked just as awful as jeremy, if not worse. he shook his head. 

jeremy sighed, and sat down next to rich. “do you w-wanna talk about it?”

rich shook his head again. 

“that’s okay.” jeremy wrapped his arm around rich, who gasped. it was almost like he felt himself open up. he didn’t even realize how touch-starved he was until he felt jeremy’s arm around him. he leaned in closer, resting his head on jeremy’s shoulder. 

they sat there for a few minutes, not saying anything. jeremy was the one to break the silence. “are you r-ready to talk about it now?”

rich nodded, taking a shaky breath. “it was my dad.”

jeremy’s eyes fell onto the bruises on rich’s arms, and he connected the dots. “he hit you?”

rich looked down, embarrassed. he hated talking about his dad. it felt like he was admitting defeat—like people would realize he was too weak to fight back. “the squip used to help me avoid him most of the time.” he paused, like he was scared to say the next part. “unless it said i was bad. but, uh, now that it’s gone... i don’t know how to hide from him.”

“you can come s-stay with me,” jeremy blurted. he didn’t know why; it wasn’t like he and rich were all that close. some part of him just felt like that was what he had to do. “whenever you need. as long as you need. my dad won’t mind.”

rich looked up at jeremy, tears he thought he’d suppressed welling up. “no, i, uh... i can handle myself. it’s only one more year, and then i’m off to college.” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “thanks, though.”

the silence fell over them again, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. 

jeremy once again spoke first. “i w-was going to kill myself when you called me.”

“what?” rich’s voice caught in his throat. 

“i was about to kill myself. but then you called me.” he couldn’t meet rich’s eyes. he was so ashamed. “i just... i felt so out of control. everything was happening and i had no control. i wanted to have control over one fucking thing.”

rich laughed bitterly. “god, we’re so fucked up, aren’t we?”

“we can be fucked up together.” jeremy smiled. he looked at rich, and god, rich looked so _beautiful._ he’d never thought of rich like that before. but he did look beautiful. maybe it was just that they were both so vulnerable, but jeremy wanted to kiss him so fucking bad. 

the squip would tell him not to. he didn’t need to listen to the squip anymore. he needed to have control. 

he pressed his lips against rich’s. it was awkward, and clumsy, and rich pulled back for a second. a million thoughts ran through jeremy’s head in that one second, calling him an idiot, a fuck-up, terrible. then rich leaned in again. it was better that time, less awkward. in fact, it was perfect. rich ran his fingers through jeremy’s hair, and jeremy tugged on rich’s shirt, and they couldn’t let go of each other. 

time was frozen. everything else in the world melted away. all of their problems were gone. it was just the two of them. they had each other. 

maybe they would be alright.


End file.
